‘And noo ’at I hae telt ye,’ he added, ‘it luiks a’ sae strange ’at
maybe I hae been but dreamin, efter a’! But it maun be true, for that
maun hae been what the angels cam cryin upo’ me for. I’m thinkin they
wud hae broucht me straucht til her themsels--they maistly gang aboot
in twas, as whan they gaed and waukent the bonny man--gien it hadna
been ’at the guid collie was aiqual to that!’
Kirsty told him to go and rouse the kitchen fire, and she would be with
him in a minute. She sprang out of bed, and dressed as fast as she
could, thinking what she had best take with her. ‘The puir lassie,’ she
said to herself, ‘may be growin warm, and sleepin deith awa; and by the
time we win there she’ll be needin something, like the lassie ’at the
Lord liftit!’ But in her heart she had little hope: it would be a sad
day for the schoolmaster.
She went to her father and mother’s room, found them awake, and told
them Steenie’s tale.
‘It’s time we war up, wuman!’ said David.
‘Ay,’ returned his wife, ‘but Kirsty canna bide for ’s. Ye maun be aff,
lassie! Tak a wee whusky wi’ ye; but min’ it’s no that safe wi’ frozen
fowk. Het milk’s the best thing. Tak a drappie o’ that wi’ ye. I s’ be
efter ye wi’ mair. And dinna forget a piece to uphaud ye as ye gang;
it’ll be ill fechtin the win’. Dinna lat Steenie gang back wi’ ye; he
canna be fit. Sen’ him to me, and I’ll persuaud him.--Dauvid, man,
ye’ll hae to saiddle and ride: the doctor maun gang wi’ ye straught to
Steenie’s hoose.’
‘Lat me up,’ said David, making a motion to free himself of the
bedclothes.
Kirsty went, and got some milk to make it hot. But when she reached the
kitchen, Steenie was not there, and the fire, which he had tried to
wake up, was all but black. The house-door was open, and the snow
drifting in. Steenie was gone into the storm again! She hurriedly
poured the milk into a small bottle, and thrust it into her bosom to
grow warm as she went. Then she lighted a lantern, chiefly that Steenie
might catch sight of it, and set out.
She started running, certain, she thought, to overtake him. The wind
was up again, but it was almost behind her, and the night was not
absolutely dark, for the moon was somewhere. She was far stronger than
Steenie, and could walk faster, but, keen as was her outlook on all
sides, for the snow was not falling too thick to let her see a little
way through it, she was at length near the top of the Horn without
having caught a glimpse of him. Had he dropped on the way? Had she in
her haste left him after all in the house? She might have passed him;
that was easy to do. One thing she was sure of--he could not have got
to his house before her!
As she drew near the door she heard a short howl, and knew it for
Snootie’s. Perhaps Phemy had revived! But no! it was a desolate,
forsaken cry! The next moment came a glad bark: was it the footstep of
Kirsty it greeted, or the soul of Phemy?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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